What happens in San Diego
by umm-anthea
Summary: The boys spend a week in San Diego after graduating high school. Ten Male Graduates plus One Tiny House plus Alcohol minus Parents equals Pure Chaos. Bunny, Creek, Kyle/Christophe, Stan, Cartman, Token, Clyde. M for language/adult themes. WIP
1. Chapter 1

**(A/N): Hokay, So… This is the Earth… I have a BUNCH of ideas for multi-chapter stories/one-shots for you all to enjoy oh so thoroughly and I've begun to outline this story in hopes that it won't take me as long to write, but that's a stretch. Some of the ideas I might throw out because I just can't start them, especially without a muse to push me along, which brings me to my next point. **

**If any of my readers, regular or no, want to request a specific story; please don't hesitate to ask me. I would consider it an honor to write a little something for someone who enjoys my stories so much! **

**Also, if you have reviewed one of my stories and never received a reply from me, I am truly sorry. I really do try to answer them all, but sometimes I get so mixed up with who I've responded and who I've not, that it is quite possible that I may have left one or two people out. My deepest apologies and thank you for the lovely reviews.**

**And another point: I know that the drive to San Diego from Denver is 17 hours and some odd minutes. That's going 60-some miles per hour. Do you honestly think teenage boys are gonna do the speed limit? No. I did the math, and if they go at least 75 mph they can make it within 14 ½ hours. **

**This was supposed to go out sometime earlier last week, but I was at the beach and got distracted by the sunlight and my books and now my sister had surgery and I've been running around the house like a chicken with her head chopped off… Anyhow… Ah! And thank you to everyone who has either faved, alerted, or reviewed (or all three!) one or more of my stories! It put a huge smile on my face when my email inbox exploded last week. **

**Enjoy!**

"Explain to me again, why are we going all ze way to San Diego for senior week when everyone else eez going to Ze Springs?" Christophe inquired while gazing at the ceiling in his boyfriend's bedroom.

"You answered your own question; it's _because_ everyone is going to The Springs that we chose to go to San Diego. We wanted to do it proper by going to a beach. Besides, most of us have never even set foot on one before. It's like a mythical location that we've only read about in books," Kyle answered.

Christophe snorted and shifted his gaze to watch Kyle organize his belongings into neat piles on the carpeted floor. At first glance, they could be considered haphazard at best, but with a sharp eye, one could discern the order from the chaos. Books organized by plot, clothes arranged by weight of cloth and type, electronics lined up by helpfulness and then by entertainment. The color of the carpet was barely visible under the items strewn across it, and the bedspread hadn't faired any better. One simple movement would disrupt the sensitive ecosystem of Kyle's belongings straight to the floor.

"Why aren't you packing? We leave tomorrow at four," Kyle asked with mild anxiety mixed into his voice as he began to start shoving his items into travel bags, checking them off a list as he went.

"I 'ave already finished my packing. Do you not remember 'aving said zat you would bring most everyzing for us to share so zat I could pack less?"

Their conversation was interrupted by a loud rap at Kyle's doorframe and both boys looked up to see Stan standing awkwardly outside of the door, trying to determine whether he could make it across the room without knocking anything over.

"Dude, you're still packing? Never mind. All my shit is in my car. Where's yours?" Stan directed his question towards Christophe who pointed to an area just to the left of the open door. Stan grabbed the straps of each of the duffle bags and hauled them over his shoulders before disappearing into the hallway once again. A few minutes passed before his reproaching footsteps sounded rhythmically off the hardwood staircase.

"So, I have all of our stuff and Cartman's bags in the back of the Journey. We should be able to fit a few more things in there if we can't fit everything in Token's ride," Stan stated and treaded carefully through the maze across Kyle's floor to sit in the open desk chair.

Kyle checked a few more items off his page long list after putting them into his bag, "I should be done soon and then we can get some sleep."

"Are you sure you don't want to pack your bed and desk, too?" Stan joked, poking Kyle on his shoulder with his sock covered toe.

Shooting a dirty glare at Stan, Kyle resumed his task, but not before muttering, "I'll remember you said that when you've forgotten something important."

* * *

"You're only packing one bag? You're fucking poor as shit, dude," Cartman laughed at Kenny's hand-me-down duffle bag stuffed just shy of tearing.

"I don't need a lot to survive because I am not a fucking fatass like you are," Kenny retorted.

"AYE! I'm not fat! I'm big-boned!" Cartman cried, pelting Kenny with a pretzel from the bag he was holding.

"Whatever you have to keep telling yourself, man."

A soft giggle followed Kenny's statement and said blond peered over at the small-framed boy seated Indian-style in the middle of his bed. Two bright, sea foam green bags flanked the teen while he clutched a large pillow against his chest, his grin widening when Kenny's gaze fixed upon him.

"We better leave soon, fellas. We still hafta drop Eric off at Kyle's before we go to Token's house," Butters said, his southern accent thick from suppressed tiredness.

"He's right, it's almost 11 and we have to leave by four tomorrow morning. Why did we agree to this again?"

Cartman pelted his best friend with another pretzel, "We agreed to it because we are two blocks from the beach and between the ten of us, it didn't cost all that much, especially with the help of Token's parents."

"Right, I forgot about that part," there's a brief pause before Kenny's head snapped back up and he whipped his head around to look at Butters, "You didn't forget to make that playlist for the car ride, right?"

"Nope! I have the playlist on both of our iPods and I burned a CD as back up." Butters smiled proudly at his preparedness and crawled off the bed to heft his bags onto the floor.

Without pausing in his stride, Kenny snatched both of the bags up in one hand and proceeded to carry all three of their bags to his truck. After tossing them into the bed of his truck, Kenny and the other two boys climb into the cab for the short ride to the Broflovski residence. Dropping Cartman off at his final destination, Kenny and Butters continued the rest of the drive in amiable silence, arriving at the Black's house within a few minutes. The tires of Kenny's beat-up truck slid smoothly across the black pavement of Token's driveway and with a short twist of his wrist, Kenny parked next to Craig's Jeep Wrangler.

"I guess Craig and Tweek are already here," said Kenny as he slammed his door closed, sidling up to Butters as they made their way up the winding path.

"It is pretty late. Gosh, I hope we don't wake them up…"

No sooner had the words left Butters' mouth than the front door swung open to reveal Token's seemingly innocent grin, Clyde's head locked between his strong arms.

"I think it's safe to say we didn't wake them, Butters."

* * *

Clyde sighed for the twenty-seventh time within a span of ten minutes. Token knew it was twenty-seven times because he was counting. The sighs were just loud enough to be heard, but just quiet enough to be only slightly irritating. Clyde sighed yet again and Token finally looked over at his friend and pegged him with the battery he was about to put into his camera.

"What the hell is your problem? You're sighing like a little girl who didn't get the Barbie doll she wanted."

"Oh. Well, you ever start texting someone and you're at a really important part of the conversation, and then all of a sudden they just stop texting you back? And you're like, 'What the shit?'"

"Yeah…"

"That's the problem! I don't want to seem obsessive if I text them again, but I really want to know the answer, ya know?"

"You are such a girl," Token snorted in amusement and ducked when Clyde threw the battery back at him.

"I'm not a fucking girl. Last I checked I have two balls and a d- _finally!_" Clyde cried, apparently receiving the much awaited for text message.

"Who are you texting, anyways? Shit, I bet it's Bebe, isn't it? She's got you tied around her pretty little finger, doesn't she?" Token teased, grabbing Clyde's phone and running off with it clutched in his hand.

"Give it back, you asshole! Bebe and I are just friends! Damn it, Token! Give it back!" Clyde yelled as he chased after his long-time friend.

Token had him desperately sprinting around the entire household and they zipped passed the guest room on the top floor. Clyde barely caught a glimpse of Craig and Tweek's amused facial expressions, nearly ran head-on into a wall, careened to the left to avoid it, and stumbled down the steps where Token disappeared. Their hot pursuit came to an abrupt stop on the first floor when Clyde tackled his dark-skinned friend to the floor. The brunette groaned as his phone skidded across the carpet and he crawled over Token to go after it. The rumble of an engine barely reached his ears and just as two car doors slammed shut, Token wrapped his arm under Clyde's chin and yanked him backwards to the front door, swinging it open to come face-to-face with Kenny and Butters.

"I think it's safe to say we didn't wake them, Butters," Kenny spoke as he pushed passed the two wrestling friends.

Token's baritone laugh echoed around the spacious room as Clyde struggled futilely in his grasp. Clyde's honey brown eyes watched as Kenny picked up his cell phone and flipped it open to nosey through it.

"You know, that tackle was kind of good. You should have been on the football team," said Token with a hint of mirth in his voice.

"Ohh, you have one new message from Bebe. I wonder what it says." Kenny tilted his head backwards to glance at Clyde and nearly choked on his laughter when he spotted Clyde's vicious glare.

"You guys are assholes." The teen went limp in Token's hold and both boys immediately took pity on him. Dropping Clyde to the floor, Token patted his friend gently on the top of his head and caught the phone, which Kenny tossed to him.

"Here ya go little buddy. Now, let's go to bed because we've got a long day ahead of us," Token emphasized the word 'long,' hefted his, now slightly more peppy, friend up onto his feet, and dragged him up the flight of stairs they had just raced down.

* * *

By three thirty the next morning, all ten of the teenage boys were hastily packing the last of their items into Token's and Stan's SUVs. Between loud yawns and shuffling feet, the boys managed to get every last piece of their luggage into the three vehicles by the time four o'clock rolled around. Kyle stood in the middle of all the parked cars with a check list propped against his arm, pen moving swiftly up and down the piece of paper as he called off each item.

"There should be three beach bags: two for beach towels and one for sunscreen."

"Check, check, and check," Stan called back as he located each of the named bags.

"Last but not least, does everyone have their cell phones, cell phone chargers, iPods, etc?" Kyle asked, looking at each boy in turn.

"Check," they each confirmed.

"Then let's get the fuck out of here. We've got a fourteen hour drive ahead of us." Kyle turned on his heel and followed Stan, Christophe, and Cartman to the black SUV parked diagonally across the driveway. Token climbed into the driver's seat of his Expedition, where Clyde was already fast asleep in the passenger seat, face smushed against the window. The remaining four boys clambered into Craig's Jeep, Craig and Kenny in the driver and passenger seats respectively, with Butters and Tweek giggling quietly in the back. All three engines started in quick succession, and with one last glance at the Black's massive home, the boys rolled onto the street and out of sight.

* * *

Four hours later, Clyde woke with a start, the sun blinding him and the music deafening him.

"Where the hell are we?" Clyde mumbled as he rubbed the sleepiness from his eyes.

Token quickly glanced over at him and pointed at the GPS that came with his SUV, "We're just outside of Colorado. It'll take us about 5 more hours to get through Utah. And then there's only 5 more hours left after that! Give or take. Because we have to go through Vegas. The lights might distract us. But Kyle already said that we were not stopping not matter what."

"Dude, did you chug an energy drink or something?" Clyde laughed at Token's rushed energized words and searched around the floor for evidence of his obviously caffeinated friend.

"Try three. I didn't fall asleep until 1 and I woke up at 3 and I've been driving for four _fucking_ hours and I _really_ have to take a piss," Token jabbed a button on the brightly lit screen and practically yelled, "Call Stan!"

A voice that was decidedly not Stan's picked up on the second ring.

"This is Stanley Marsh's phone. He is currently busy being a douche bag asshole; may I kindly take a message?" Cartman's sniggering voice asked in feigned innocence.

"I HAVE TO PEE!"

Token and Clyde heard all four of the boys on the other line burst into simultaneous laughter and Kyle's voice rang clearly through the phone next.

"We'll stop at the next rest area. I'll call Craig and let him know."

"No more energy drinks for you, Penny."

Token smacked Clyde upside the head. "What did I tell you about calling me that?"

"To do it as often as possible?" Smack! "Ow, shit!"

Five minutes later, Token threw his car into park and bolted out of the door, sprinting to the nearest restroom. Clyde, Stan, Craig, and Butters followed at a much slower pace and Token was still peeing when they entered the bathroom.

"Fucking hell, my piss is radioactive green," Token hissed at Clyde two urinals over.

"I told you not to drink that shit, man. You'll die of a heart attack…or radioactive poisoning."

As the first five boys were scrubbing their hands clean, three more strolled into the bathroom.

"I don't want to stop in Vegas, so we'll eat breakfast here and stop again when we're about to leave Utah," said Kyle and all of them voiced their agreement.

"I thought you didn't have to pee, Tweekers," Craig teased as he dried his hands off with a paper towel.

"I changed my mind. Five more hours without a bathroom made me nervous." Cartman snorted at Tweek's statement and shoved Butters over with his hip.

"Aw, Eric! There was an open sink right there," Butters pointed to the sink which was now in front of him with a pout on his face.

"Whatever, I do what I want."

When Kyle, Cartman, and Tweek left the bathroom they found their travelling companions engrossed in a spontaneous game of soccer; Craig, Clyde and Token on one team with Stan, Butters, Kenny, and Christophe on the other.

Kyle tilted his head to the side in confusion, muttering, "Where did the soccer ball come from?" And then he spotted the three or four adolescent children zigzagging between the older boys with practiced ease. One of the smaller children kicked the ball towards the opposite goal and cheered as it whizzed past Token's obviously restrained hand.

"Yeah, you scored little man!" cried Stan as he bent down to give the kid a high five. He eyed Kyle from across the stretch of grass and stood to his full height.

"Aw, it looks like we gotta go eat breakfast now. Have fun on your trip, alright?" Stan fist bumped the smaller kid and ruffled his hair as he followed the rest of his friends across the street to the closest fast-food restaurant.

* * *

It took exactly ten hours and twelve minutes for Tweek to finish his drawing. He gently blew the pencil shavings off his large sketch pad and held it in front of him to observe it from a short distance. He sighed in relief as no obvious mistakes jumped out at him from the paper.

"Wow! Did you finish already?" Butters exclaimed from beside him and Tweek smiled with a small nod of his head.

The drawing was of him, Token, Clyde, and Craig, all in mid-laughter, arms tangled around necks and waists to signify their close bond. The original photograph was taped carefully to the back of Craig's headrest and its enlarged replica spoke volumes of Tweek's artistic abilities. The picture was taken during last winter and they were bundled up in hats, coats, scarves, and gloves, covered in powdery snow. Token was flanked by Craig and Clyde, their arms slung casually around his neck, his own arms curled to his stomach in laughter. Token's shoulder-length dreadlocks were pulled into a ponytail near the top of his head, with a purple bandanna tied loosely just across his hairline. His midnight black pea coat opened to reveal the bright purple hoodie beneath it and his yellow scarf coiled elegantly around his neck. Craig had one arm around Token, while the other wrapped around Tweek's waist, pulling the blond-haired boy flush against his side. Craig was donned in his infamous chullo, strings bouncing happily against his shoulders and his bright blue scarf covered his laughing smile, which shone through his crinkled eyes. Tweek's blonde head was thrown back in laughter, and his gloved right hand was clutching Craig's shirt to keep him upright. Clyde, wearing a dull gray scarf around his neck with matching mittens, beamed at the camera in evident elation

Where Tweek's drawing lacked in color, he made up for in detail, and after he taped the original photograph to the bottom corner of his masterpiece, he scrawled 'Happy 19th Birthday, Token' across the top.

"You have perfect timing too, Tweekers. We're about to stop for some lunch," Craig informed them as he followed Stan and Token's vehicles onto an off ramp. After pulling into the parking lot of Burger King, all ten boys groaned as they stretched their cramped muscles.

"I swear to baby Jesus, tomorrow I will not sit down once," Craig heard Token say as the dark-skinned boy bended over double to touch his toes, "I will run, and play, and frolic with the sand creatures."

Kenny placed his elbow on Craig's shoulder and peered into his obviously exhausted face. "Hey, man. If you want me to drive the rest of the way so that you can get some rest, I wouldn't mind."

Seeing Craig's hesitation, Kenny gently nudged the back of Craig's head with his elbow. "You trust me with your life, Tucker. Now, trust me with your car. I'll treat her just right."

Craig just shook his head in resignation and dropped his keys into Kenny's open palm. "Don't make me regret this."

Once inside the restaurant, the boys each placed their orders and slowly began to overrun the small Burger King of St. George, Utah. Token, Tweek, Kyle, and Christophe were seated silently at a booth; Token was fast asleep with his head on the table, Tweek staring at him in mild disgust, while Kyle and Christophe passed Christophe's iPhone back and forth, not wanting to interrupt their intense game of scrabble. Stan, Craig, and Clyde sat in the table across from them; Stan and Craig were both out cold and Clyde sat singing a melody to himself as he doodled all over Craig's forearm. Cartman was in the middle of a pointless argument with Kenny (who was sitting with his arms crossed over his chest, feigning sleep to annoy the fat boy even more) in the booth behind Kyle, while Butters hummed along to the rhythm to which Kenny's fingers were tapping.

The peace was broken when a gruff, male voice called out a number and Stan shot out of his chair like a bat out of hell. From that point onward, the little restaurant was complete and utter chaos as all ten boys maneuvered around each other, grabbed random packets out of bins, and devoured their lunch. Out of the consideration of Kyle and Butters, the clan of boys left the restaurant more or less the same as when they arrived. With new, alert drivers at the wheels, the three cars took off once more, this time not stopping until they reached their final destination.

* * *

The time was well past eight in the evening by the time they arrived at the rented beach house.

"Holy shit, I didn't expect it to be so big!" Stan yelled as the rocks crunched under his weight.

"That's what she said," Kenny cried back whilst jumping out of the driver's side of Craig's Jeep.

"I'm so fucking exhausted," Token said as his feet shuffled across the gravel, "Do we have to bring in all of the bags tonight?"

"We can just bring in what we need and leave the rest out here until tomorrow morning when we're all rested," answered Kyle as he began to rummage through all of the bags in Stan's SUV.

Once everyone grabbed what was necessary for their nightly rituals, they walked up the short path to the front door, but stopped dead in their tracks when they realized they were missing one vital item: the key.

Craig sighed as he collapsed onto one of his bags and Clyde looked towards Kyle with a pained expression.

"Now what?" the brunette asked, tears beginning to brim his eyes in pure exhaustion. Craig noticed the choked tone to his friend's voice and smacked him hard on his leg to prevent him from crying.

Kyle threw up his arms in defense, "Wait, she gave me specific instructions for when this happens."

There was an awkward pause as the boys waited for Kyle to continue.

"I just can't remember what they are…"

"Aw, that's weak, dude!" Cartman shouted as he too collapsed on top of his bag.

As they were talking, they didn't notice the sound of four high-pitched beeps, a latch opening, or the distinctive noise of a key sliding into a lock. They did however notice when Christophe, the door open behind him, turned to them and smugly muttered, "Come on, beetches."

All ten boys jumped forward in haste, nearly knocking each other over to get through the door. Cartman raced forward, pushing Clyde to the side in irritation, as he bounded towards the first room with a queen sized bed. Throwing the door open, the brilliant smile fell off his face as Christophe waved mockingly from his perch on the large mattress. Cartman slammed the door closed in frustration and growled at the red-headed boy who nudged him out of the way. He rushed to the next door over and almost screamed when he saw Craig and Tweek curled in a tight ball on the last queen sized bed. Cartman stumbled down the steps as he hurried down the hallway towards the room with the bunk bed.

"No! The fuck?" Cartman half asked, half yelled at the lump lying on the last not-twin-sized bed.

Kenny rolled over and grinned like a jackal, "You know the rules, fat boy. Now go to your twin sized bed. Be gone!"

Kenny laughed hysterically as Cartman grumbled his annoyance, stomping down the hall to the last room with the three twin-sized beds cramped in it. Upon entrance, Cartman eyed Token and Clyde who were already fast asleep above their covers. He threw his bags onto the floor next to the empty bed and collapsed face first onto the mattress with a loud groan. Trying to focus on his annoyance at getting one of the smallest beds in the house, Cartman fell asleep quickly along with the rest of his comrades.

**(A/N): One more thing to say! If anyone would be willing to draw the picture that Tweek drew, PM me and we'll negotiate something :)**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: South Park, all South Park characters, settings, and events belong to the makers of South Park, Matt Stone and Trey Parker. Sometimes, I just like to play with the grown-up versions of their boys. **

**(A/N): Over 8000 hits total for my stories, guys. I'm really proud of your dedication and apologize for the long wait between each update, but sometimes the words don't come as easily as I would like them to, ya know? Just keep reading, and I'll keep updating. **

**We're just gonna pretend that it's the-middle-of-July temperatures in San Diego because apparently, right now, Denver temperatures are hotter than San Diego temperatures. The boys might as well have just stayed in Denver and created their own damn beach. Why must you ruin the realism in my story, San Diego? Also, this chapter is crap because I've lost significant interest in this particular story. Rhea, Rory, Mika, and Mira belong to me because I had to create some girls to have fun with our single SP boys. And I didn't just make up random girl names. They were relatively thought out and have some meaning behind them.  
Rory: in Irish Gaelic, Rory means "little red haired one" and since this character is red haired, I thought it would be fitting.  
Rhea: the origin of Rhea isn't pinpointed, but it has some correlation to the words rheos, which means stream, and era, which roughly translates to earth.  
Mira: steaming from many languages, the name Mira has several meanings, from prosperous to astonishing. Considering her being a twin, I thought it proper.  
Mika: it rhymed with Mira and in Japanese it means something like "beautiful smell."**

**Enjoy.**

His eyes refused to stay closed. They stared blankly into the darkness engulfing him, tracing the streams of light on the carpet that were leaking through the slits of the blinds from the streetlamp outside. His eyes flicked back over to the digital clock, which was glaring back at him with bright green numbers.

**4:08 a.m. **

Its four o'clock in the fucking morning and his brain refused to shut off. He rolled onto his other side with a sigh, curling his knees into his chest as he tried, yet again (and in what he knew would be a futile attempt), to fall asleep. His mind tried to fabricate dreams, to fool his brain into thinking it was really, truly okay to stop working _any fucking minute now_. When that failed, he did his deep breathing exercises, taking in a lungful of air and releasing it slowly while counting to seven, hoping that would help relax his body and mind.

After several minutes with no results, he gave up with that technique, too. He flipped onto his back, kicking his legs out straight and bringing his arms in at his sides. He curled his toes to the bottom of his feet as hard as he could for three seconds before relaxing them one by one, forcing the muscles to loosen up through short, sudden bursts of tension. Moving from his feet to his calves to his knees, Token worked upwards through his full body relaxation routine his therapist taught him several months ago. Finally, he reached the last part of his body to relax, his fingers, and clenched them into tight fists before letting them fall limp against the mattress, sighing exhaustedly when his entire body- muscles, ligaments, tendons, _bones_- was finally rid of its rigidness.

A muscle in his thigh twitched and his whole body went taut once more.

"Shit," he cursed under his breath, ripping the sheet off his body to pad quietly out of his shared bedroom, clicking the door shut behind him.

He wandered aimlessly into the kitchen and, on impulse, opened the refrigerator door to stick his head in, in search of a late night- _early morning_, his brain supplied- snack. He visibly started when he came face-to-face with an empty fridge and looked around the dark kitchen in mild confusion.

"Oh. I forgot we were at the beach," he muttered to himself, shaking his head at his rare moment of stupidity. _Forgetfulness_, his subconscious stated.

"Do you usually talk to yourself when you think you're alone?"

"Jesus fucking Christ!" Token shouted and stumbled over his feet, completely and absolutely shit-your-pants scared at the voice that definitely was not his._ Or mine_.

A dim light chased away the darkness of the kitchen to reveal Stan, who snickered quietly as Token regained his composure, raising his eyebrow when his question went unanswered.

"Do you usually sit in the dark in the middle of the fucking night to scare unsuspecting victims, like me?" he shot back defensively, avoiding Stan's question altogether.

"Touché," Stan murmured.

Stan's blue eyes examined the boy across from him, noting the telltale signs of spontaneous insomnia. Tense muscles, tired eyes, resigned expression; Fingers ripping out the hair, curses flowing from the mouth, sighs escaping through the nose. He's been there. He _is_ there.

"You couldn't sleep either?" he asked with obvious empathy.

Token closed his eyes for several moments and opened them again; just as awake as he was before. "No. At this point, only a sledge hammer to the head would knock me out."

Stan drummed his fingers on the table top rapidly before slapping his palm flat against it with a determined look on his face.

"Wanna go hook up the gaming system?" Token's face lit up and he gave a sharp nod of his head, racing down the hallway with Stan like two small children on an early Christmas morning.

The boys spent the next several hours with their eyes glued to the television screen, skilled fingers easily manipulating the gaming controllers as they pummeled each other's virtual characters with wildly unrealistic maneuvers. They easily breezed through multiple video games while the sun slowly rose over the horizon, unnoticed by both boys. Soon, the clock that was glaring so maliciously at them before amicably glowed the time in a soft green light. Hours ticked past and, one by one, their companions awoke from their deep slumber; by 10 a.m. the entire house was very much alive, yawns and grumbling and sighs included.

"Why are we up before noon, again?" Cartman complained between mouthfuls of food.

Kyle pinched the bridge of his nose and squeezed his eyes shut, answering Cartman's question for the 5th time that morning, "Because, fatass, in Denver time its 11 o'clock. Besides, we have to unload all of the cars before we go to the beach."

Brown eyes narrowed in the Jew's direction, thick fingers shoving another spoonful of cereal into a greedy mouth. "We already got the food. What more do we need?"

"Cartman, I swear to God…"

Christophe pointed to Kenny, Craig, and Clyde, speaking in a sleep-rough voice, "You, you and you come wiz me. We will get eet done wizin ze next zirty minutes."

The three boys followed Christophe out the front door without a single complaint, still too tired from sleep to put up any kind of fight. True to his word, Christophe and the other three managed to bring the remaining luggage in to the house in less time than he wagered and Kyle began to unpack the beach necessities with the help of Butters and Tweek. The Frenchman sat back on the couch beside Token and Stan, content with simply watching the redhead flit around the house gracefully.

"Was he always such a domestic leettle 'ouse wife?" Christophe asked Stan with a slight smirk across his face.

"To a T," Stan responded, not breaking eye contact with the T.V. screen.

Once Kyle finished dragging all of the beach necessities onto the floor, he ushered all of the boys back to their rooms to change into their swimming trunks. Ten minutes later, they were all appropriately dressed for some fun in the sun and they each grabbed a stuffed-full bag, beginning the oh-so-long, five minute trek down the street. By the time they reached the (surprisingly not very crowded) beach, they were panting and sweating, not used to the hot temperatures of San Diego, California. They set up camp close to the water next to a group of smoking hot girls, who all watched with wandering eyes and little whispers as the boys adjusted to the soft sand between their toes and the warm rays of sun beating down on their shoulders.

Clyde grabbed a handful of the snow-white sand and let it filter through his fingers, staring at it curiously. "What's this stuff made out of, again?"

"Sand is made up of tiny little minerals and pieces of rock that break off of bigger pieces of rock from erosion, weathering, and whatnot," Token states in a matter-of-fact tone, "Didn't you ever pay attention in science class?"

"I paid attention to the back of Bebe's head, if that's what you mean," Clyde responded while mockingly tilting his head to the side.

Stan looked around the almost deserted beach, smiling kindly at one of the beautiful girls before asking aloud to anyone who would listen, "Where is everyone? It's like we're the only people here."

The girl Stan smiled at walked over to him, scratching the back of her head as she answered his question in a sweet voice, "Well, it's not exactly beach season, yet. Plus, it's a Monday, so you really aren't going to see much people here; not on a weekday, at least."

She sticks out her hand with a lopsided grin, "I'm Rory. You aren't from around here, are you?"

He grasped her hand in a friendly handshake, "Nah, we live around Denver, Colorado. I'm Stan, by the way. Pleasure."

"S'all mine, really. I'm kind of glad I came to the beach with my friends, now." Her eyes twinkled mischievously and Stan couldn't help but smile back at his newly acquired friend.

A tall, busty brunette slung her arm around Rory's neck, pulling her into a headlock whilst asking, "Who's yer new friend, baby girl?"

The redhead glared at the side of her friend's face as she struggled to get out of the strong hold on her neck and snarled, "If you would get your arm off my throat I could tell you."

The brunette dropped her friend, a shit-eating grin across her face as she patted Rory on the top of her head. Stan raised one of his eyebrows, a strange feeling of déjà vu creeping up his neck as he watched the two girls quarrel. The smaller framed red-head punched the girl standing next to her in the shoulder before turning back to Stan with a shy smile on her lips.

"Stan, this is Rhea. She can be a bitch when she wants to, but she's a damn loyal friend, and she has a killer left hook, so it's best if to have her on your side, you know what I mean?"

Rhea took a handful of Rory's long, red hair and yanked, forcing the smaller girl to fall on her ass in the sand.

"Damn, Rhea! I said you were loyal!" she yelled, aggravated, and simultaneously rubbed the sore spots on her scalp and tailbone.

The two girls attracted the attention of Cartman, Token, and Clyde who wandered up to Stan with matching smirks on their faces. The Marsh boy helped the sulking girl to her feet as his friends introduced themselves to the bodacious Rhea, who stood there with her hands on her curvy hips.

Cartman's eyes lingered too long on her breasts and her fingers directed his eyes back up to her face, "Eyes up here, big boy. They ain't goin' anywhere; you can trust me on that."

"Sure thing, tits," he joked, expecting her to bristle indignantly at the provocative insult.

Instead, she threw her head back and laughed uproariously, sarcastically asking, "That one was original; did yer five year old brother help ya come up with that?"

Cartman opened his mouth to retort, but his words stopped short when two gorgeous, obviously twin, blondes sauntered up to flank either side of Rhea, tan arms looping around the brunette's trim waist.

"Rhea, we wanted to know-" the one on the right began.

"If we were going to find a party tonight-" the blonde to the left of Rhea spoke, seamlessly interjecting her sister's sentence.

"Because we can't stand another night being sober," they finished together in the eerie way twins do.

Token and Clyde were immediately at Cartman's side, wrapping their arms around his broad shoulders in a sort of mimicry of the two blondes, using their best friend instincts to speak at the same time, "We're throwing a party, tonight. Come party with us."

A startled scream had all of their heads snapping to look behind the group of boys and Stan threw his hands up in the air and yelled sardonically, "Oh my God, they killed Kenny!"

Kyle's muffled voice responded from somewhere below the ground with a laughing lilt to it, "You bastards!"

Kenny's blond head popped up out of nowhere, the large hole invisible from their standpoint, and they all watched as he attempted to pull himself up onto the sand that continued to give under his weight as he shot back, "I'm not fucking dead, you assholes. Now help me out, damn it."

He gave an embarrassingly girly squeak when he was grabbed from behind and hefted out of the hole by the strong, tan arms of Christophe. Kenny brushed the sand off of his bathing suit with what was left of his dignity and nearly cried out again when Butters tackled him to the ground in worry.

"Aw, that's cute. They're a couple, aren't they?" Rory asked Stan, as they sat down on a beach towel facing the ocean. Her curly red hair tumbled over her freckled shoulder as she looked back at the smaller blondette seated atop of his lover, keeping him pinned to the warm sand.

Stan balked for a moment, unsure of whether he should out his friends, then decided that they'll out themselves anyways with their brazen behavior and nodded his head in affirmative. "Come to think of it, the ratio of gays to straights in this group is like… 2 to 1."

Her laugh was melodic and open as she let herself drop back into the sand, unconcerned with it clinging to her beautiful hair and pale skin. "You guys sure are non-judgmental for coming from the mountains. Aren't they rather uptight about that sort of behavior?"

"We've been best friends since kindergarten. The shit we've been through is too significant for us to not form relationships like that," Stan glanced down at the girl lying next to him, "Besides, with idiots for parents, we clung to the people who kept us sane."

Rory contemplated what he said for a moment, her hand shielding her blue eyes from the bright sunlight shining down on them. "What about you? Who is the person that keeps you sane?"

Stan's face gained a faraway look, a soft smile adorning his face. "I had my best friend, Kyle, for a while. We were inseparable throughout middle school and most of high school. I had this girl, Wendy, who made me more insane than sane when Kyle's boy toy came and scooped him away. But now, I'm single, on vacation, and looking for the best summer of my life."

Rhea towered over their lounging bodies and crossed her arms over her ample chest, "Hey, baby girl. Are ya comin' in the water or are ya just gonna sit here an' look pretty?"

"I'd much rather sit here and look pretty, thank you," Rory answered in a mockingly polite voice, leaning up on her elbows.

She screeched when Rhea tossed her tiny frame over her tan shoulder and hauled her away into the ocean, kicking and screaming, not stopping until she was waist deep in water. Grasping tiny, pale hips in her strong hands, Rhea practically threw Rory into the ocean, laughing as the redhead disappeared underneath the water with a cut-off scream. Stan eyed Cartman making his way to the ocean and stood to catch up with his big-boned companion, passing Token and Clyde on the way.

"My name's Mika and this here is my clone, Mira. Obviously, our parents weren't very original when coming up with names," the blonde closest to Token stated, her hazel eyes sparkling beneath thick eyelashes. Her sister snorted at the statement that was probably over-used as she casually twined their fingers together.

Clyde leaned forward as he examined each girl carefully before he complained, "So how the hell are we supposed to tell you apart?"

"Well," Mira started, looking at her sister curiously, "You'll figure it out eventually, if you're lucky."

"Let's make a game out of it, shall we?" Token asked, always one to bet on something he could confidently do, "Whoever can tell the two of you apart the most by the end of the night, wins. But we'll leave the prizes up to you to decide."

The twins looked at each other for several moments before turning back to the two boys with identical smiles on their faces. "Deal," they both declared, holding out their hands to seal the invisible contract.

As the day wore on, the boys got to know the little group of girls a lot better and officially invited them all over to the beach house to party in celebration of new beginnings. They parted ways around five in the afternoon, physically exhausted from the excessive amount of sun and waves, not at all looking forward to the, what now seemed like, long walk home. The boys trudged into the house, groaning as they nearly dropped to the floor in relief.

"I feel like I haven't showered for a week," Kenny said disgustedly, holding his arms away from his body as if he were covered in mud.

Cartman snickered, "You would know what that felt like."

"How many showers are there?" Craig asked in a hesitant voice while inching his way over to the first bathroom.

Kyle held up his hands before anyone bolted for the bathrooms and yelled, "Stop! We can figure this out without fighting over bathrooms. More than one person can shower at the same time, plus there are two outdoor showers."

"Dibs on the outdoor shower!" Cartman and Stan shouted at the same time, high fiving each other with shit-eating grins on their faces before running off to gather their things to shower.

Clyde groaned, his shoulders slumping in defeat, while Token rubbed his hand down his face, spitting curses at his two friends. The remaining couples looked at each other, unconcerned about the shower arrangements.

"I just want a fucking shower," Craig admitted, eyes shifting between Clyde and Token.

Christophe leaned against the far wall and tipped his head back against it in thought, wanting to move this ordeal along quickly so that he could wash the grime out of his hair, "Ky-el and I will let you shower first so zat we can fix a quick dinner while we are waiting."

"Obviously, Butters and I are going to shower together, and Craig and Tweek are, too. So, the real question is who wants to shower with which couple?" Kenny impatiently inquired, starting to shift his weight from foot to foot.

Token glanced at Craig before fixing his gaze on Clyde. "Rock, paper scissors?"

"Best two out of three?" Clyde asked back, holding out his fist on top of his open palm.

Predictably, Clyde lost both times and trailed after Kenny down the stairs in defeat to the spacious bathroom. Deciding decency was the best way to do things, the boys remained in their bathing suits as they prepared to shower together in the tiny tub.

"Dude, you know it would be awkward if we were all standing in here naked. You have to at least agree with me on that one," Clyde tried to explain with a slight grimace on his face.

The water from the showerhead was plastering Kenny's hair to his face as he stood beneath it while Butters shampooed his soft, blonde hair in front of him. Filling the air with the smell of fresh apples, Butters scrubbed his skin clean of sunscreen and sand until his skin glowed a light pink. The little blonde hesitated a bit with the loofah clutched in his hand, trying to think up a way to clean beneath his suit without removing it in front of Clyde. Kenny grasped Butters' thin wrist and dragged him underneath the showerhead so that his back was against the wall. The bigger blonde tilted the spray of water upwards, facing his little lover with the soapy loofah in hand. Meanwhile, Clyde ignored the both of them in favor of washing his hair out with the only shampoo available: Butters' fruity smelling shampoo. Engrossed in cleaning his body off, he failed to hear Kenny speak to Butters.

"Do you think you can be quiet so as to not draw the attention of our beloved, straight Clyde?" Kenny whispered into Butters' ear.

Butters nodded his head silently, but nearly whimpered when Kenny shoved his hand, loofah and all, down the back of his bathing suit and scrubbed his backside lightly with teasing strokes. Honestly not wanting to upset Clyde, Kenny tried to be as innocent as possible while he cleaned beneath his buttercup's swim suit. Grazing the loofah lightly across Butters' front, Kenny winced when said blonde let slip a tiny moan and he glanced over his shoulder to see Clyde standing absolutely still, fingers stuck in the middle of massaging shampoo into thick hair, his wide brown eyes glued to Butters' face. Kenny cursed under his breath and slowly pulled his hand out of the soapy suit, running it up a toned stomach to plant his palm on the wall behind Butters. A deep blush spread quickly across Clyde's cheeks as he suddenly snapped back to reality and spun around to face the opposite wall while his fingers resumed rubbing shampoo through his hair. The brunette nearly had a heart attack when two muscular arms suddenly wrapped around his waist in a tight hug.

Kenny's cheek pressed against the warm skin between Clyde's shoulder blades as he muttered, "I really didn't mean to make you uncomfortable, baby boy. Butters just likes to be really clean and he didn't want to wash himself in front of you. So I did it for him."

There was a pause until Clyde nodded his head in understanding.

"I'll wash up real fast so that you can finish up alone, alright?" Kenny asked in a sweet voice, patting Clyde on his hip before turning back around to do exactly what he said he would.

Before Clyde could work up the courage to turn back around, Kenny and Butters were gone, the door slamming shut behind them. Embarrassed, the boy looked down at his crotch with a confused noise, not exactly sure why his body was reacting to the sight of his two friends being intimate with one another. He's seen it before with Craig and Tweek, why should these two be any different?

"Butters isn't Marjorine anymore, get a hold of yourself," Clyde mumbled to himself, trying to justify being aroused by his very male friend.

He sighed laboriously and resolutely shoved the thought to the back of his mind to avoid any further embarrassing revelations. Wanting to get drunk as soon as physically possible, Clyde rushed through the rest of his shower routine and, once finished, tossed his dripping wet bathing suit in the corner of the tub to wrap a dry towel around his waist.

He ambled to his room in a slow, lazy stride, walking through the open bedroom door, past a half-dressed Token and a fast asleep Cartman, before collapsing face first into his pillow with a loud groan. He stayed there for several minutes, wondering if it was entirely possible to suffocate yourself to death without wimping out half-way through. Willing to give it a go, Clyde slide his hands beneath his pillow and firmly pressed it against his nose and mouth to block the airflow to his lungs, waiting for the inevitable panic to overwhelm him and force him to stop. Seventy-two seconds in, his head was tugged back by a harsh grip in his hair and he yelped at the awkward, and painful, angle of having his skull crushed against his spine. His lungs struggled to gulp down the fresh air greedily, his vision swimming due to the lack of oxygen to his brain.

"What the fuck are you doing?" he heard Token ask incredulously and he shifted his legs beneath him to kneel, hoping it would alleviate the pain radiating from his scalp.

"An experiment," Clyde gasped, delicately brushing his fingers across the hand clutching his hair. Token's grasp loosened slightly and the brunette's head dropped forward a few inches to relieve the strain on his neck.

"Well, knock it off and get dressed."

**(A/N): And this is where this chapter/story ends for now because I've lost my motivation for this one. I hope I don't disappoint too many of you, but I'm moving on. I might come back, I might not. For now, this story is on indefinite hiatus. **

**I would like to thank a very dedicated fan, **Anon, **personally. You have left me some very kind reviews, and it's readers like you who give me the motivation to keep my stories going. I'm especially glad you enjoy Tyde as much as I do and I actually wrote "To Give and To Take" just for you. I don't think I said that in the author's note, but I figured you'd read it in this one! Thank you very much again, and your reviews make me smile every time I read them. **


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